


The Art of Sulking

by Qhernadez07



Series: Kismet [2]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Black Panther (Comics)
Genre: Alpha Erik, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Erik Has Feelings, Gen, M/M, Omega T'Challa (Marvel), Pouting, Shuri being nosey, Sweet T'Challa (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 23:57:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15107453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qhernadez07/pseuds/Qhernadez07
Summary: Erik finds himself relying on T'Challa after an incident.





	The Art of Sulking

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, I've been holding on to this for a while, and since I do not have chapter 10 of Kismet ready, I decided to post this so you can read something until then. I do have others snippets seating around, but am not sure if they will see public eyes since they don't really follow any plot. But anyway, I hope you enjoy this while you wait for the Kismet update.

It goes like this.

Erik wasn’t clumsy. In fact, he was usually cautious about everything—well kinda.

Fine. What Erik was, was a walking contradiction. On the one hand, Erik was smart, a planner, careful with his instincts and actions. The side that went to the Naval Academy; graduated top of his class, the side that left such an impression, that he was the youngest and most relied on in his Ghost Unit.

But then there is the other side; the one Aunt Ramila likes to call ‘idiot Alpha’ who was spontaneous, coarse and uncaring about consequences. Like right now.

He flinches, and Shuri rolls her eyes as she continues drenching the palms of his hands with stinging antibacterial goo. They are still bleeding, and she has to wipe away deep red every few minutes.

There’s been an outage in power due to a minor earthquake. Shuri—on her part— blew a teenage gasket after the event occurred. The lab was partially down, and running on antique emergency lighting and facilities.

Antique meaning modern age tech for the rest of the world. But meaning slow healing for Erik and his wounds. After wiping away the torn skin, adding more gel, Shuri places a gauze on his hands and starts wrapping.

Erik tries not to pout.

“What did you do again?” She asks for the millionth time tightening the bindings.

“Be careful!” He gruffs out.

The princess gives him a mockingly shocked look. But rolls her eyes and continues. Erik wants to push her off the swivel chair she’s seated on— to show her who’s boss.

“It was something dumb right?” She begins again. Erik stares her down. Cold and blank.

  
“It was something dumb,” she nods; like the look was all the confirmation she needed. “What did you do?”

Again silence.

“I know M’Baku was there…”

Yea. He was, and the bastard was laughing hysterically. But Erik won’t tell Shuri that.

“Wait until my brother hears about this-”

“You ain’t saying shit,” he bites out.

Shuri stifles a laugh and finishes tying off the wrapping. “I don’t need too. It’s not like he won’t notice your mitten hands and the cuts on your face.”

Erik’s looks down to his now…’mitten hands.’ They are covered with white wrapping, and his palms are fully open. If he tries hard, Erik can move his thumbs—but that’s it. He feels like a mannequin...or an action figure toy.

Shuri grins. “I hope it was worth it.

 

\------

 

It’s not worth it. The dare definitely was NOT worth it. And Erik stomps around the bedchambers in the worst of moods for the next few days. His routine is entirely off, but the Alpha refuses to ask for help.

So he struggles with brushing his teeth, washing his body and any other thing he takes advantage of when using his hands.

At first, T’Challa did end up asking about why he was in such a state; scratches on Erik's face and hands wrapped and bloody. Erik just shrugged and made it seem like no big deal. T’Challa tilted his head curiously.

“An Alpha thing?” He says with a knowing smirk and pats him on the back. Like Erik ‘fell for it’, like he is an immature child.

That has the Alpha spewing profanities before stomping off again to be alone. Fuck M’Baku and his stupid dare.

After a few weeks of sickness, T’Challa is feeling better, and the vomiting has limited to once every three days or so instead of continuously.

Erik takes every opportunity to sniff him and see if he smells any different. T’Challa doesn’t—at least not really—, but Erik feels like something is being masked; hidden. That pisses him off even more.

T’Challa doesn’t notice or is trying not to discern. And they interact, but on the lowest terms. Erik can’t say the other isn’t loyal and steadfast. The Omega helps him with putting on his clothes and cleaning his hand wraps through his sulking.

At present Erik is shuffling around the bedroom, trying to make himself appear busy. T’Challa sits cross-legged on the bed going over schematics from Shuri. It's a rare time that Erik has seen him dress down; with tank and loose shorts. He ignores Erik’s restlessness.

Using his thumb, the Alpha scratches his scalp and grimaces. He needs to wash his dreads-- correction--he wants to wash his dreads, but his hands still are…

Erik looks at them with a frown.

He turns to look at T’Challa. The Omega looks like he’s in the zone, and hasn’t moved from his studying for over an hour. Erik doesn’t want to disturb him...well that’s a lie, he does want too, just not for something like this.

Walking up, the Alpha casts a shadow on the other, and that gets the Omega to look up.

“Erik?” brown eyes question.

Erik clears his throat and makes sure that he stands still instead of shuffling.

“You busy?” He asks.

T’Challa glances down at the many sheets on his lap. Yes. He is busy, and Erik knows it.

“I was hopin’ you’d do me a favor,” speaks the Alpha again before T’Challa can answer.

That seems to get the others attention, “Favor?”

Erik looks away but holds up his hands.

“My hands still are pretty bad,” he starts glancing back. “I usually wash my hair every week but because of the bandages…”

T’Challa’s eyes suddenly soften to Erik’s surprise. “You need help washing your hair?”

Erik looks at the far wall. But nods. He hears a shuffling of papers and T’Challa is in front of him.

“N’Jadaka, do you need help washing your hair?” the Omega asks again looking him in the eye.

“...yea,” responds Erik after a few nervous blinks. “Please…” he adds on like an afterthought.

 

———

 

The only person Erik lets touch his hair is his mother, Aunt Ramila—not voluntary—and N’Jobu. Which was several years back; since then Erik has taken care of his grooming. So it’s weird to have anyone touch his head, let alone his Omega.

But here they are; Erik is sitting on a bench near one of the sinks of their washroom with his head tilted up. The annoying mitten hands are resting on his legs. Surrounding him is T’Challa scent and Erik breaths him all in nice and slow.

Nimble, strong fingers massage his scalp and clean individual dread strands. At some point, T’Challa leans closer to him. The Omega is already standing over him with arms caging his head. His shirt is a loose tank that looks suspiciously like one of Erik’s, but it has T’Challa’s smell.

The more T’Challa massages and scrubs, the more relaxed Erik becomes. His eyes automatically close and he nuzzles T’Challa’s arm with his nose. From above the Alpha hears a light laugh and freezes. He blinks away his trance-like state and returns to not doing anything—though he still inhales the Omega’s scent deeply.

 

———-

 

It’s a losing battle once T’Challa rinses and drys Erik’s hair. They end up on the room's balcony. Both are sitting on one of the patio recliners, under a built-in awning. T’Challa is laying slightly back with Erik sprawled in between his legs.

Towels are cradling Erik’s head which sits on top of T’Challa’s stomach. And Erik is dozing. He’s facing the Omega with one arm wrapped around T’Challa’s middle; its nestled between the flat of his back and the chair. Meanwhile, the Omega dips his fingers in a small jar of wax and starts twisting a loc.

It was a secondary mention after his hair washing, but T’Challa seemed happy to oblige in helping with the dread maintenance. Erik burrows deeper, his hand creeping up underneath the shirt to feel warm skin while the other hand wraps underneath the Omega’s leg. It's lifted slightly and curled on top of Erik's lower back.

He doesn’t notice Shuri walk up.

“There you are!” she yells walking around to greet them properly.

Erik opens his eyes and sees her stop short, looking at their positions.

“Well this is surprising…” she begins. “How about you get a room and spare the rest of-“

“What do you want toddler?” muffles Erik lazily. He rubs T’Challa’s thigh in his shorts and congratulates himself when he feels a shiver.

Erik gets the 'finger' from Shuri and a small swat on the head from T’Challa.

“Be nice,” the Omega speaks to the both of them. “I’m guessing you’re here for a purpose Shuri?”

Shuri crosses her arms and playfully glares. “I was checking on the patient. But he seems to be nice and comfy right now with very little distress.”

“Mm,” speaks T’Challa still twisting a dread. “How’s the lab?” He asks.

She shrugs. “It’s getting there, but a few systems need reprogramming into the new set-up.”

“Anything lost?”

“Thankfully no.” She looks towards his hand underneath T’Challa’s shirt. “I’m guessing there’s not much pain?”

Erik doesn’t even try to shrug. He’s too relaxed to do anything. “It comes and goes…”

“The ointment seems to be working diligently,” adds T’Challa.

“Good. The irony of it all is you probably have to thank M’Baku for that,” she says lips twisting into a smirk. “Funny how he’s the cause of your predicament but has tons of advancements in medicine.”

Erik removes the towels from beneath his head and pushes up T’Challa’s shirt, so his cheek meets firm abs and warm skin. “Stop fishin.”

Shuri scowls before walking further away while ranting and complaining. She easily spiels off into her little world on theories based on Erik’s injuries and completely ignores the two.

“It must be something truly embarrassing for you not to say anything about it. I don’t know why it’s such a big deal. I’ll find out sooner or later-“

Erik chooses to tune her out at that point and glances up at T’Challa. The Omega lets go of his hair to give Erik his undivided attention.

The Alpha smiles with eyes half-lidded. “What-up kitty?”

He gets a small smile. “Hello, N’Jadaka.”

Erik pushes up the tank even more and exposes a dark brown nipple. He glances at Shuri who’s still ranting looking at the city before licking a wet strip up T’Challa’s rib cage and clamping down on the brown peak.

T’Challa’s eyes wide, and he gasps before catching himself and glancing frantically at Shuri.

“It was probably a lion, right? I mean that makes sense with the scratches on your face. But lions usually go for the jugular so you would be dead. Or maybe something more subtle-like an elephant-“

“N’Jadaka!” hisses T’Challa in a whisper.

And Erik pulls away with a smack before kissing along his chest.

“What’s wrong?” he asks with a wicked grin.

T’Challa glances at Shuri.

“Not a hippo...but possibly...no, no, I mean maybe...no, you’d be dead for sure—both of you. You know what I think? Plants. Plants also can be hazardous-“

“Behave,” whispers T’Challa also ignoring Shuri.

Erik lifts himself, side-stepping the ache in his hands and reclines the chair further back. He moves so he’s hovering above the anxious Omega.

“You can’t be nervous? It’s not like we haven’t been in this position a few times-“

“Not in front of my sister!” the Omega whispers louder before quieting himself. They both turn to Shuri to see she's still rambling.

“Based on the testing you must have fallen. It’s the logical thing, and I don’t know why I didn’t realize it before. The question is what were you both doing to get those injuries-“

Erik rolls his eyes before he lowers his lower body and turns his hips. T’Challa’s breath stutters and Erik leans in to kiss him.

“Gross you guys! Get a ROOM,” is heard closer to them.

The Omega stiffens, but Erik presses his lips harder and pushes his tongue in T'Challa's mouth for a quick taste. After a few seconds, he pulls away reluctantly and gives another peck before turning to the annoying princess.

“Where you think we are, toddler?”

Shuri glares and places her hands on her hips. “You have plenty of time to worry about ‘that’ aspect of your relationship. Just tell me what you and M’Baku were up too?”

Erik smiles coyly, “Or I could just leave you in the dark wondering for the rest of your days.”

Shuri shakes her head. “You’re such a child.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Egotistical ingrate.”

“Stuck-up spoiled brat.”

“Asshole!”

“Bi-”

“Enough!” yells T’Challa over the two. He also whacks Erik in the head and gives him a stern look at the word he was about to use.

Shuri huffs and walks away, clearly pissed-off with not getting the information she wanted. She leaves them alone on the balcony.

T’Challa turns to him frowning. “You will watch your tongue around her.”

“Psshhhh, I wasn’t going to say shit. Stop worryin’ and chill.”

T’Challa glares. “N’Jadaka-”

“Thanks for helping with my hair.”

That switches T’Challa’s mood quick, and he opens his mouth, but nothing comes out for a few seconds.

“You’re welcome,” he finally speaks with an adorable smile that melts Erik’s insides.

The Alpha watches--heart racing-- as his Omega leans in shyly and presses their lips together. Erik shivers as a tongue darts out and licks along his bottom lip before slipping inside his mouth. The Alpha lets out a groan, allowing T’Challa to take charge, letting their tongues play.

The kiss ends too soon, and the Omega pulls back. Erik smiles licking the taste of T’Challa from his lips.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say 'hi' on my Tumblr! And if you have any suggestions on things you want to read (for this series or something different), let me know. Thanks for reading and comments are appreciated!
> 
> I'm on tumblr here  
> [tumblr here](https://something---sumthing.tumblr.com)


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